I never thought I would live to be the age that I am. It wasn’t just sadness and lack that convinced me, it was the utter disregard for who I was in the world. I never thought that anyone would give a damn that I was gone or miss me. I imagined relief at the news. I imagined indifference. Finally, that little black girl is not taking up any more space in the world.

Suicide happens because death feels preferable to living. It doesn’t mean I’m crazy, it means I’m human, it means that I hurt, it means that I matter. Blackgirls need reassurance, love, affirmation, understanding, quiet, noise, Jesus, Allah, themselves, to be, our mamas, our sister-girls, lovers, time, enough money to get by, for our biologicals to bother, to be chosen, to be recognized, to be celebrated, to be held up on a pedestal barefoot and proud, to be told relentlessly and unapologetically that we are beautiful, to be listened to, to be heard, a space to fall apart, a space to be put back together again, help, justice, truth, to know they matter.

When you see a blackgirl, smile. She is a gift to the world.

When you hear a blackgirl speak, listen. She is a gift to the world.

When you are in the presence of a blackgirl, look. She is a gift to the world.

Blackgirls matter. Those of us who breathe and those of us no longer breathing.

In Loving Memory of Karyn Washington, and other blackgirls we have lost. Please use the comments section to call the names of other blackgirls we have lost too soon.

This was as heartbreaking as it was beautiful. I read this aloud to myself, because I wanted it to sink in. Thank you for sharing. I’m so sorry that no one saw Karyn Washington’s pain soon enough to intervene. I’m sorry the darkness became too much for her to bear. I’m just sorry…